Today, I am nervous: nervously awaiting the result of my father’s appointment with his vascular consultant. Worst case scenario, they have to operate. Even worst case scenario, his legs have to be amputated. Sigh. I’m spending the day in London city today, going to Waterstone’s in Charing Cross to buy 1Q84 by Murakami, Saturday by Ian McEwan, What is the What by Eggers and A Room of One’s Own by Virginia Woolf: then I’ll have all the course books I need for this term, along with some personal reading to get on with. Then I’m going to the British Library to do some dissertation research, then home to North London to see my dad. I’ve decided to buy my future mother-in-law some flowers en route, to say thank you for everything she’s done for me. This small gesture will make me happy.

I’m ignoring my illness today– it’s as if we’ve had an argument and aren’t speaking to each other. For the time being. We’ll be well acquainted again soon, I’m sure. But for today, I’m ignoring it, pretending it isn’t there and that it doesn’t exist. Going to see if this coping mechanism works or backfires. We shall see in due course.

Wishing you all a day filled with wonderful things.

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